Twisted Interest
by dystopia97
Summary: It is the golden trios seventh year at Hogwarts. For Hermione, she looks at this as only one year left before her life can start. But when a new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher takes a twisted interest in her, her life changes forever..
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys! You may know me from my other story, Addictive Affliction. But I recently read another Tomione fic where he was a Professor, and I loved it! It totally inspired me to attempt one of my own. Just to clear things up, this is set in Hermione's time. There has been no war, so Harry's parents are still alive. Anyway, enjoy! Follow and review xo**

The carriage carried five – Harry Potter, his girlfriend Ginny Weasley, Ron Weasley and _his_ girlfriend Lavender Brown. And Hermione Granger.

Hermione was a tired seventh year of Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She woefully stared out of the window, silently praying for the ability to apparate out of the feeling of _mush_ that seemed to follow the two couples. Really, how annoying.

The night was dark and dreary, which seemed to reflect her mood. Lately she had been feeling rather down. It wasn't the fact that her best friends had both ditched her for girls all summer (which they had) or that she did not have a boyfriend herself (which she was not interested in, thank you very much) but merely it was the pressures of being a mildly attractive seventeen year old girl. Life, sometimes, just brought her down.

"Who do you think the new Dark Arts teacher is going to be?" Ginny piped up, aiming the question in Hermione's direction.

In response Hermione gave a polite smile and a small shrug. She appreciated the sixth year's attempt to involve her in the conversation, but she just was not in the mood.

"I hope it's someone cool like Lupin. Or maybe Lupin will come back!" Ron said, his eyes shining. Lavender nodded enthusiastically.

Harry shook his head. "Dad said Lupin's been down at the bar a lot recently, helping Sirius get started. I wouldn't be surprised if he stuck it out for the first year just to make sure the business sticks. The bar looks really great though, you should all come next ti…" Sirius Black, Harry's godfather, had just opened a bar in London. It was small and quaint and perfect for Sirius. After retiring from being an Auror for almost thirty years, he needed something easy to do. James Potter, Harry's father, was still working. He said he would quit when he was dead.

Hermione tuned out of the conversation.

A little while later they were bundling into the crowd to get to the Great Hall. Having ate a large amount on the train, and due to feeling a bit under the weather, Hermione excused herself from her group. Neville Longbottom, the Head Boy, gave her the password to the Gryffindor common room which allowed for her escape. Halfway on the way, she decided to swing by the library to grab a few books for bed. That was one habit she still shared with her eleven year old self.

As expected, it was completely quiet. Just how she liked it.

After browsing for a few minutes, she had picked out two and was trying to decide between them.

"Why are you not at the Welcoming Feast?" A sharp voice rang out in the cold silence.

The books tumbled out of Hermione's hands she jumped. When she turned she was greeted with a young man, most likely mid to late twenties. He had neat brown hair and dark brown eyes. Sculpted, almost royal features; pointed chin, straight nose and hollowed cheeks. He was rather handsome, although even that was not enough the interest her. She just wanted to get to bed.

"I'm sorry, who are you?" Hermione supposed she knew everyone at Hogwarts.

"I'm Professor Riddle, the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. So tell me girl before I deduct points." His entire aura seemed to scream pompous git. Hermione disliked him already.

"I had an awful headache and decided on an early night." Some of that was true. Headaches had become second nature to the girl.

The man smiled coldly. "Do you intend to sleep in the library?"

"I intend to sleep in my bed."

"And where may that be?"

"Gryffindor."

He hissed. "Of course. The lion. I should've guessed."

She fidgeted. "Yeah… anyway I best be off. Early start tomorrow." She started off towards the door. When she reached it, he silently bid her a good night.

The next morning at breakfast they all received their timetables. Hermione had decided to take Arithmacy, Charms, Herbology, Potion, Ancient Runes, Transfiguration and Defence Against the Dark Arts. Due to her exceptional OWL grades it was no problem for her.

"We have Charms first," she told Harry and Ron. They nodded in agreement, finished up their breakfast, and made haste to their first lesson.

The rest of the day was actually quite pleasant and enjoyable. Hermione was given Harry and Ron's undivided attention as their girlfriends were not there, and she began to feel like her old self again. At lunch in the Great Hall she was greatly involved in the conversation about Professor Riddle, telling them about her run in with him the night before.

"He sounds a bit odd," Ron remarked, squinting his eyes so as to see Riddle at the staff table.

Hermione nodded. "He was very… intimidating. I can't imagine what sort of teacher he will be. I would compare his demeanour to Snape perhaps."

Both the boys grimaced.

"Why would Dumbledore hire another git like Snape?" said Harry, just as Ginny sat down.

She flicked her long red hair over her shoulder and leaned in so the trio could hear her better. "If you're talking about Professor Riddle, I just had him."

The three seventh years urged her to continue.

"He's sodding miserable, but Merlin he is a good teacher. He doesn't tolerate any misbehaviour," she whispered. Her brown eyes kept flicking up to the staff table, and though he might hear her. "He's like Lupin, Mad Eye Moody and Umbridge combined."

That last comment made Ron and Harry whistle lowly. Hermione looked up at the staff table. Riddle was not speaking to any of the other teachers around him. He was toying with his soup, only taking a mouthful every so often. Just as she was studying just how handsome he was, his eyes flicked to hers.

She quickly looked back down at her own sandwich.

Ginny giggled softly. "Hermione, I don't mean to alarm you, but Professor Riddle is really staring at you."

Hermione shushed her. "Ginny stop, what if he can lip read? I was just telling the guys that he saw me in the library last night when I was supposed to be at the Welcoming Feast. He's probably just trying to remember where he recognises me from."

"He doesn't look pleased," Harry whispered. "What did you say to him?"

"Nothing! I swear. I just took my books and went back to my room. Is he still looking?" All three of her companions nodded. "Drat, I'm just going to go. I'll see you in Defence." She picked up her book bag and made a hasty exit.

In the common room she made an attempt on some Herbology homework but her mind started drifting, and before she knew it she was being shaken awake.

Her eyes fluttered open, revealing Harry and Ron's face slowly. They looked very grave indeed.

"What?" She jumped out of her seat. The common room was completely empty, and a fire was burning. "What time is it?"

"Hermione, it's past 4 o'clock, you must've fallen asleep. You missed last lesson," Harry told her softly.

"Riddle is pissed, Hermione. He wants you to go see him now." Ron's expression boded no good.

She quickly gathered her books and shoved her wand into her pocket. She didn't want to tell them but they were really scaring her. She was angry at herself for missing a lesson, but it was a complete accident. Surely he would be able to see her reasoning.

"Ok, I'll go now. Will you guys come with me?" Ron and Harry exchanged a look.

"He specifically stated you had to come alone."

Blood rushed from her face. "Very well then. I'll see you guys at tea."

She couldn't shake the feeling of walking to her death sentence the whole way down to her office. This was preposterous. He was a teacher and she had missed his lesson, he was only going to punish her, maybe with a detention, and then she could put the whole ordeal behind her.

She found herself outside his office in no time at all. Steeling herself, she knocked twice and let herself in.

Riddle was sat behind his desk. His quill was furiously scratching against some parchment.

"Miss Granger," he said without looking up.

"Yes sir. I'm so sorry-" she began, but he silenced her.

"I don't want to hear your excuses." He set his quill down and finally looked at her. Close up, his eyes seemed almost black. And certainly angry. "I don't want to know why you missed my lesson. I merely want to punish you for it." He stood up and sat on the front of his desk. With a wave of his wand the door slammed behind her and locked.

She jumped a little. She was more than frightened now. Why would he lock the door?

"You see, Miss Granger," his voice went static around her name. "I do not tolerate any misdemeanours under any circumstances."

"I understand, sir." Her voice was barely more than a whisper. She could only focus on his hands, which were placed on either side of him. Every time he said her name they gripped the desk harder, turning his already pale skin shock white.

"I really do want to hurt you, Miss Granger."

_What_!?

Her eyes snapped up to his, and she found an almost hungry expression on his face. "H-hurt me?" she stammered. She had never experienced anything like this before. Did someone really want to hurt her?

"I deal with students a little differently to most teachers, Miss Granger." He pulled out his wand. "I'm going to curse you. I'm going to make you feel pain. I'm going to make you feel as though you want to die." He said it so simply, yet the words were cutting into her. "Then I'm going to make you forget about it. You'll walk out of this room with no recollection of what happened. But I'll do the spell shoddily. It will always be in the back of your mind. What did Professor Riddle do to me? Of course, you'll never be able to tell anyone, because you have neither proof nor any recollection."

Her breaths were coming in fast and heavy. This man was truly insane. He licked his lips. Her eyes followed the movements of his tongue. "Are you ready, Miss Granger?"

She pulled out her own wand just as he sent his first curse. "_Protego!_" she shouted, throwing up a shield. She could tell this just angered him more.

He rushed towards her, and his long fingers closed round her throat and lifted her up against the door. "How dare you try to fight me off!" He dropped her, letting her crumple in a heap. "For that, Miss Granger, I'm not going to let you forget. _Crucio!_"

The spell hit her harshly, right in her chest. Her vision went spotty and then black. All she could see, hear, smell and feel was pain. It was everywhere. It engulfed her every nerve, her soul. It was like fire and ice at the same time, battling away in her mind. Her back arched and her body writhed. When it was over, she curled into the fetal position. It was a while before she registered that the whimpering sound she heard was her.

She didn't want to move. She knew if she did she would cry out, which would give that sick man even more enjoyment. She was going to report this to Dumbledore. How could he hire such a man?

She felt strong hands close around her waist and lift her up. She then felt cradled, and safe. That was odd. What was happening? Had someone found her? She was still too afraid to open her eyes. She didn't even know if she could.

She was carried for a short while before being placed down onto a soft surface. A bed, she deciphered. She barely heard a few murmurings before she fell into a deep and dark sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning rolled around in what felt like minutes. It was a cold and crisp, and Hermione pulled her covers up to her chin in order to trap in heat. She could hear the loud popping of her joints as she did so. And then she felt the pain.

"_Merlin_," she moaned, instantly stilling. Yes, she felt a definite stiffness in her joints, as though she had participated in an intense workout. Her mind was still foggy from her sleep, and it too was throbbing painfully.

Then it all rushed back to her.

It was exactly as he had promised. She remembered _everything_ about his torture. She completely regret trying to defend herself.

"Feeling a tad sore, Miss Granger?"

Her eyes shot open. Riddle was sat next to her bed. He must have brought her to the hospital wing last night. His cloak was laid neatly over the back of his chair, revealing his clean white shirt and tie that he must wear under it. Damn that man for being a monster.

She sat up tenderly, so they were eye to eye.

"How dare you sit there and ask me how I feel." Her words spat out of her like venom. Although he was rarely surprised, a trait he prided himself on, Riddle recoiled slightly in response.

"Watch your tongue," he hissed back. His brown eyes narrowed. "You will do well to remember, Miss Granger, that I put you in this hospital wing and I can very well make sure you never leave it alive."

"Ah yes," she mused sarcastically, "Why don't we discuss about how you put me here? What will Dumbledore say when he finds out?"

He laughed mercilessly at her. "Don't you think I handled that? Madam Pomfrey inexplicably had to take sick leave after coming down with some wretched stomach cramps. Pity really. Last night I brought you here only after making sure there were no other sick students. I sent a message in the form of Colin Creevey to ensure your friends knew that you had detention with me until I deemed fit to let you go. It is five am right now, which is a very long time to get you back to your dormitory and dressed for school before they even notice you are missing. Oh, I'm forgetting the best part! If you even _try _to speak a single word of what happens to anyone else, including your little friends and Dumbledore, you will find yourself silenced. And if you persist any other way, such as writing notes or body gestures, I will be alerted. And I will kill you." He leaned back in his chair with his arms over his head, the smirk so dominant on his face she could not even remember what he looked like without it.

"Why are you doing this," she whispered, after seeing the intensity of her problem. It seemed a bit extreme to take such an instant disliking to a student.

His tone got very serious. "I cannot help the way I am, Miss Granger. I do apologise that it is you who will be on the receiving end on my dark side. But I cannot change my mind now." He swept up his cloak and left her in silence.

Hermione had managed to pull her sore, sorry self back to Gryffindor. She quickly changed her underwear and brushed her teeth and went back down to the common room. She didn't want to wake the other girls, but she also didn't want to sleep. She was afraid that when she closed her eyes she would see Riddle's face again.

She couldn't believe this was happening to her. How could she protect herself from the enemy when the enemy was supposed to be teaching her how to? She tried to see how she could alert someone, but her abused brain came up with nothing. Finally giving up, she curled up in an armchair and silently read until the early rises were awake.

Harry and Ron finally came down the stairs after two whole hours. It wasn't unusual that they would find Hermione up and dressed before them, but both commented on how tired she looked.

"Woah Hermione, those bags are something to brag about," Ron said when he saw her face.

"Did Riddle work you hard?" Harry asked, with a tone of mistrust in his voice. Harry had always been very intuitive.

"Yes. A two foot long essay on why sleep is important," Hermione sighed in such a way that would be fitting for a teenage girl that had received detention. Her friends thought nothing of it. Instead, they gave her sympathetic looks and they all headed down to breakfas

Having missed not only most of lunch but dinner as well, Hermione was starving. She helped herself to a large portion of scrambled eggs, sausages and a few hash browns.

"Jeez Hermione, are you stocking up for the winter?" Ginny said once she had joined the three sixth years.

"I'm just hungry," Hermione managed to slide out round a mouthful. The red head captivated the two boys in an intense discussion about quidditch, which left Hermione alone to devour her meal in peace.

All through breakfast Hermione did not think of Professor Riddle. Her friends had managed to snap her back to reality, making it seem as though everything that had happened the night before was just a dream. She joined in with the conversation, laughed at all the jokes, and even cracked a few herself. By the time Arithmacy rolled about, she had all but forgotten being scared at all. She was just Hermione again.

However, she did not notice that a pair of dark brown eyes never left her. Even once.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey guys! So sorry I took so long last time. Made this one extra long! Thank you all for the positive feedback, it really means a lot and is such motivation. I'll try and get the next chapter on as soon as possible!**

Arithmacy was a very difficult subject, leaving only three students at Newt standard. These were Hermione Granger, Carl Hopkins from Hufflepuff, and Draco Malfoy.

"Alright Granger," the latter greeted her as she took her seat at the front next to him.

"Malfoy," she responded gently. Despite their initial feud, Draco and Hermione had become friends of a sort, at least in the subjects where no one would see them. When Draco's father was taken to Azkaban after being discovered harbouring dangerous and illegal objects in their holiday manor, Draco had become much kinder, and Hermione had come to see a different side of him. Not only was he incredibly smart, but funny and loyal as well. Nowadays, if he ever heard anyone speak ill of Hermione they would be hexed to no end. Of course, he never admitted it was him.

The three students pulled out their textbooks and began copying the notes off the board. There was an understanding in the classroom that respect for the teacher and the subject would not be viewed as nerdy. It was nice for Hermione that she received appreciation and praise rather than abuse when she correctly answered a question.

"How was your holiday?" Draco asked quietly.

"Boring," she responded. "Yours?"

He sighed and set his quill down. "It was ok I suppose." Sensing he was upset she also set her quill down and sent him an inquisitive look. "This whole thing with my dad has been really hard on my mother. She's been completely cut out from all society. I was debating even coming back to school at all."

"I'm sorry to hear it," Hermione said truthfully, and softly patted Draco's hand in sympathy. She tried to imagine what she would do if she was in Draco's situation, but she came up short. Her dealings with the dark arts were quite minimal. He took up his quill again, obviously signalling he no longer wanted to talk about it, which she respected. She knew he was a man of minimal words, and hearing him open up at all to her meant a lot.

The lesson finished and Hermione went up to the common room to spend her free period. She saw Ron and Lavender and went to sit with them, despite her dislike towards her best friend's annoying girlfriend.

"Hello Hermione," Ron said pleasantly when she sat down. Lavender ignored her completely. She tried to capture Ron's attention again by twiddling his red hair through her fingers. Hermione could not help but feel a slight pang of jealousy at the sign of affection.

"Hey Ron. Lavender." Hermione pulled out some work to get on with in quiet, allowing the couple to carry on being repulsive. She had to admit they had toned it down a bit since they'd first got together in their sixth year, but the sight of them together still caused slight nausea. At first, she was upset at the idea that Ron liked anyone other than her in the first place, even though she did not comprehend her own feelings towards him. Now, she supposed, it was less the people but couples in general. Harry and Ginny were okay, but then again they were not big displayers of public affection. The Hermione was similar in that aspect. She reckoned that if she did happen to become involved with someone, she would try and keep it as quiet as possible. To her, your private life should be kept, well, private.

The period zoomed by, and Hermione managed to complete the majority of her workload. She gathered her books to go to Defence with Ron, while Lavender said goodbye and made her way to Divination.

"Are you worried about seeing Riddle?" Ron asked as they walked briskly.

Hermione's stomach filled with a complete feeling of dread. All day she had managed to squish the idea of seeing Riddle into a small box in her mind that occasionally rattled but all in all could keep quiet. She shook her head silently, fearing that if she spoke she would spill the big secret.

They arrived just as the door was closing behind the last student. Ron caught it and held it open for Hermione, and after a small mental pep talk she walked in.

Deciding quickly, she made her way to an empty desk at the back of the classroom so she wouldn't have to look at Riddle unless she completely had to.

"Miss Granger."

She looked up.

There he was, standing in front of his desk just like the night before. She felt a painful twinge in her head at the memory. He pointed silently wish his wand to a desk at the front, right in front of him. She walked quickly to the empty seat and took it, not looking at him so he couldn't see the fear on her face, but she could feel his smirk bearing into her. He launched quickly into his lesson. The desk was positioned so it was slightly more forward than the others on the front row, so she had to crane her neck left and right in order to see the other students. In a nutshell, he had managed to isolate her from everyone else and make it seems completely normal.

She tried not to notice that the other students on the front row were all girls who appeared to be drooling over their notes rather than writing on them.

All through the lesson Hermione made sure she wrote the lecture note for note. She didn't want to give Riddle any other reason to victimise her. The more of his words she wrote down, the more she absorbed the passion behind them. It _was_ a bit like Snape; they both tried to play down their hunger for what they were teaching, but the real emotion could be evidently seen if you only looked slightly harder. The phrases he used to describe the dark arts were almost loving, almost caressing.

Hermione knew all too well that this man was most likely not capable of love.

She managed to make it through the period with no contact with him at all, instead just carefully inscribing what he was saying. It gave her a reason to never look up from her paper.

When the lesson ended, she all but sprinted out of the classroom, not allowing him to even attempt to talk to her. She decided she was going to drop Defence Against the Dark Arts. She didn't have as much interest in it as Harry or Ron did, and avoiding Professor Riddle was the main objective on her list. Potions and Ancient Ruins dragged painfully past. All Hermione could focus on was going to see McGonagall and finally being rid of the man. She sped up to the witch's office the minute her teacher dismissed them for lunch.

"Professor!" Hermione called after the transfiguration teacher, who was walking away in the direction of the Great Hall when Hermione arrived on the corridor.

The elder witch turned. "Miss Granger, what can I do for?" That was one thing Hermione admired about McGonagall. Even though it was obvious she was on her way to lunch, she still chose to speak to a student that was in need. She really cared about her students.

"I was wondering if I could talk to you about dropping a subject?" Hermione asked tenderly.

McGonagall looked quite surprised. "You, give up a subject? I never thought I'd hear the day. Well, come in." She ushered Hermione into her office before taking a seat at her desk. "Now, which subject."

"Defence Against the Dark Arts."

McGonagall studied Hermione over her glasses, her mouth in a severe line. "Really, Miss Granger? Professor Riddle has already begun to sing your praises. He seems to think you are the best student to have ever walked into his classroom."

Hermione felt her cheeks warm. "I feel as though… well my workload… I just really want to drop it. Please Professor."

The older witches eyes narrowed, but she said nothing, instead pulling out a large folder. She tapped it with her wand so the pages flicked, landing on a page designated to Hermione. She scribbled something with her quill, before returning her attention to the young witch. "Consider it done, Miss Granger." Hermione got up to leave. "Before you go, is there anything at all you wish to talk about?"

Hermione swallowed loudly, feeling as though a ball was stuck down her dry throat. She felt as if the Professor could see into her mind. She hoped she could. However, she whispered in a very small voice "No Professor, nothing at all."

Without Defence, Hermione's time table opened up a lot, allowing her more frees and therefore more time to focus on her other subjects. She was well ahead of her workload, and even had time to spend her last free on the Friday lounging by the lake reading for fun while the boys worked on essays for Riddle.

"He's been in such a foul mood," Ron commented, crossing through an entire line before starting a new sentence. "It's like one day he just switched. He's been setting us essay after essay. Git."

Harry nodded in agreement. "Seriously Hermione, you're so lucky you got out when you did. Even you would call this homework unfair."

She gave the boys a compassionate look, trying not to think that it was her dropping his subject that made the Professor angry. But surely, if she had removed herself from his direct contact, he would just find another girl to torture. She had barely seen him the past week, and her mind had been glad for it. Occasionally she would feel a scorching stare on her back while she sat at meals, but she always refused to turn around. She knew what she would face if he did.

She laid back on the grass, allowing her hair to spill out behind her and her eyes to close. It was a lovely September day, the last grasp of summer before the clouds turned dark. The trio lapsed into the comfortable silence that could only be adopted by friends that had known each other for so long.

The period ended abruptly, and their group swelled as Ginny, Lavender, Neville and Luna joined them. Ginny brought up the subject of the Hogsmead trip that weekend, but Hermione was barely listening. It was the same every trip – Harry and Ginny would go off for a meal, Ron and Lavender would go somewhere quiet to spend some 'alone time' and she would be stuck with Neville and Luna all day as they did their funny little dance around eachother. They both had feelings, everyone knew. But Luna was too dreamy to notice his, and Neville was too shy to make a move. It was all so childish.

She decided then that she would go it alone and go to the little known bookstore to seek out some new material. The idea of fresh books put a smile on her face, and at that moment she was completely content.

Meanwhile, in his office, Professor Riddle was pulling out his hair, staring at the fourth year in front of him. "It's not the _same_!" he seethed, sending a curse the girl's way. She rolled onto the floor, eyes glazed. It was giving him no satisfaction, nothing at all. The girl whimpered slightly, but it was nothing, _nothing _ compared to how he felt seeing the Granger girl in front of him. He would find a way to get to her, he _had _to. Muttering the spell, he erased the fourth year's memory and carried her to an empty classroom.

When he got back to his office, he stared out the window. Straight away he spotted the girl laid by a tree near the lake. Her curly hair was fanned out like a halo against her pale skin, screaming innocence. She had the tiniest smile on her face. _What was she smiling about_? Riddle got a twist in his chest at the fact that someone or something had made her happy. _It should be me._


End file.
